


Just Quit the Act and Love Me

by WorldsOnlyConsultingCriminal



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bored Sherlock, Confused John, Confused Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Innocent Fluff, M/M, Nervous Sherlock, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 04:50:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/820169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorldsOnlyConsultingCriminal/pseuds/WorldsOnlyConsultingCriminal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is just a pain to everybody. John included. But will he finally see past that..? Someone sweet and charming? Let's get a little Johnlocky. c:</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"John. John. JOHN!" My eyelids fluttered and I looked directly up into Sherlock's wide eyes.

"What Sherlock? I was sleeping."

"Obviously." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Long night out with…Sarah? Was it? She left you angrily when you took that call from me. You came home, angry and upset, to pass out on the couch. Next time please make it to your bed. Alright? I don't sleep that often, but when I do it's hard to listen to your snoring another room closer."

"I do not snore." I muttered. "And how can you complain about that when you play the violin at 3 in the morning?"

"The sound of me playing the violin is a beautiful sound… Snoring on the other hand is just…"

"That's a matter of opinion." I grunted, getting up to turn on the telly.

"What are you saying?"

"I don't know. Sherlock, you tell me. You know you're so damn smart." Before he could reply I decided to get to the point. "What do you want?"

"I want a case."

"You've just solved a case!"

"That was last night! Now I'm bored! BORED. And you've hidden my gun. Haven't had time to find it yet."

"Well why don't you make that you're next case? I really don't need Mrs. Hudson getting upset about her wall again anyways. Is that really what you woke me up for?"

"Yes." He replied nonchalantly.

"Have you no self-restraint?"

"I have enough self-restraint, thank you very much." He grabbed the clicker from me and shut off the telly. "Call Lestrade. Get me a case."

"Call Lestrade yourself. I need a shower."

"You do. You smell of alcohol and... man stink."

I rolled my eyes and ignored that comment. "Oh, and I didn't thank you for ruining things with Sarah for me. A person would've thought you were jealous if they saw the way you acted. But I know you're just a colossal dick." I got up and headed for the bathroom and slammed the door. Why was he always such an arse? Couldn't he just let me get off with Sarah? Apparently not. He knew exactly how to ruin a perfect dinner.

"John?" I heard a slight knock on the door.

"What Sherlock? I'm about to get into the shower." I said through the door.

"I need to borrow your phone."

"And where's yours?" I questioned, but Sherlock remained silent. "What did you do to your phone Sherlock?"

"It was an experiment."

"You're hopeless." I opened the door and handed him my phone. "Now leave me alone. I'd like to shower in peace." Sherlock said nothing as I slammed the door in his face.

By the time I was out of the shower, Sherlock was gone. My phone was left on the table. I sighed and checked the last messages. Text to Lestrade: Any new cases? With a reply: Nothing interesting. Call to Mycroft. Mycroft? Why would Sherlock call Mycroft. Their childish feud kept him from having almost no contact with his older brother. Oh well. As long as he wasn't here to be annoying and rude and play his stupid violin at three in the morning.

I pulled on my favorite jumper and headed out the door. There really isn't anything to do at the flat without Sherlock there. Even if he was annoying as hell, he was the only reason I wasn't bored all the time. I called Sarah. "Hello?"

"Hello, Sarah. I'm real sorry about last night. You know how Sherlock can be…"

"Yeah, well I know how you can be too." She replied tartly.

"I'm really sorry Sarah, it'll be different next time..." I started to say.

"No, it won't John. We can't do this anymore. You and Sherlock make a cuter couple anyways. Good-bye." The other line went dead. I sighed. I couldn't do anything without Sherlock screwing it up.

My phone buzzed. Text from Sherlock. Picked up new phone. Sorry about Sarah.

No you're not. Where are you? I sent back.

Busy. Was his short reply.

Care to build on that any?

No.

He was so annoying. His stubborness, the way he never tells me what is going on. Him and his stupid amazing blue eyes, gorgeous voice… and those just too tight shirts… I wiped those thoughts away. He's Sherlock bloody Holmes.

My phone buzzed again. We need milk.

You care to get some? I asked, already knowing the answer.

Rather not. 

Of course not. Fine. I always get the shopping anyways.

So why did you bother asking? Was his annoying reply.

I decided not to answer. I waved down a taxi and headed for the supermarket. We didn't just need milk. The flat had nothing to eat or drink in it. Ever. Which is funny since Sherlock rarely eats. Maybe he just experiments on the food, I thought to myself.

After picking up a few groceries and returning to the flat, I was annoyed but happy to see that Sherlock had returned. "Ah, John. I see you got milk."

"Good observation."

Sherlock glanced up from his perch on the chair. "Thanks for picking that up."

His thanks caught me off guard. "Oh, you're welcome…" Since when does he thank me for anything? "So, anything from Lestrade?"

He moaned. "No! Everything is so dull. Boring domestic violence. Boring stolen cars, bank robbed. No murders, no serial killers. What I would give for another serial killer! It's been too long since the last. We need something fun!"

"Maybe I should change occupations?" I asked jokingly.

"You would make a horrible serial killer John. I would know it was you in the first 2 minutes."

"If you say so." I said as he walked to grab his violin. It was going to be a long evening. "Why did you call your brother earlier?"

"I didn't."

"Sherlock, I'm not a complete idiot."

"Well that is a matter of opinion."

When I didn't reply, he sighed. "I needed something from him."

"Wait, what was that? You needed something from someone else?" I did nothing to hide how surprised I was.

"Oh shut up."

"What did you need from Mycroft?"

"Advice."

This just kept getting better and better. "Advice on what?"

"That does not concern you." He started playing terribly on his violin. A sign that he didn't want company. I rolled my eyes and headed for my room. It was like living with a teenage boy.

The violin stopped after about an hour and I was about to head back to the kitchen when my phone buzzed. Text from Sherlock. You.

Me what?

I needed advice from Mycroft about you.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock's words echoed around in my head. What was he even saying? Why would Sherlock need advice about me? I didn't know how to reply. I just stood there and stared at my phone. I didn't realize I was holding my breath until I got slightly dizzy and carbon dioxide flew out of me in a giant gasp. I don't know how long I stood there. It could have been hours, minutes, or even just seconds.

"John..?" There was a slight knock on my door. "Did you fall asleep?"

I was half tempted to jump into bed and make it look like I had, but I was sure he already knew I was standing just in front of the door trying to regulate my heartbeat.

"No Sherlock. I'm awake."

"Then why didn't you text me back?" Of course, that's what he had to ask. But I had no answer. He must have realized how uncaring he sounded because soon he asked. "Are you okay?"

"I'm… I'm not sure." I replied honestly. I really didn't know. I didn't know where this was going. I mean this was Sherlock Holmes. Nobody ever knows what he's thinking but he always knows what you're thinking apparently. I didn't know what I was even thinking at this point.

"Open the door John." I didn't move, couldn't move… Didn't answer, couldn't answer… "John, please…?"

I opened the door slowly, trying to keep myself calm and composed. But as soon as I saw Sherlock sitting there… Sitting? He was sitting cross-legged on the floor staring up at me. He look genuinely concerned… Or scared, I really couldn't tell. He looked so innocent and vulnerable; I just wanted to throw myself at him…

"Why are you on the floor?" I asked instead.

"I'm sitting." Thanks for stating the obvious Sherlock.

"Obviously, but why?"

He just shrugged, so I sat down in front of him.

"What are you thinking?" He asked quietly.

"Don't you know?"

He scoffed. "Of course not John. I don't actually read minds you know. I merely observe. Do you really think people can read minds John? How naïve are you?"

"I was just-" Sherlock quickly cut me off.

"Our brains use electric pulses to transmit data. If it does use electric pulses, there must also be an electromagnetic field surrounding the brain. If we take that electromagnetic field and convert it into electric pulses that computers can read, does that mean we could read minds? No, your brain can handle and infinite amount of processes that control your bodily functions. Getting any information that anyone or anything could understand in slim to impossible. The reason why we cannot read minds may be because of our skull. The skull might not just be a protective covering for your brain but a counter magnet. The counter magnet would prevent any electromagnetic fields from entering the brain and potentially destroying or damaging it. Just as it prevents electromagnetic fields from entering the brain, it may also prevent the electromagnetic field from leaving the brain which is why we shouldn't be able to read the electromagnetic pulses without first drilling through the skull. The counter magnet skull might be developed by evolution as a result to Earth being a huge magnet. And since I'm assuming you don't want me to drill a hole in your skull…"

Even for Sherlock, that was quite a rant. But it came out too quickly and he sounded almost… nervous. No, not possible. I had to be reading him wrong. "Sherlock, are you alright?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" He answered too quickly.

"You're nervous."

"No. I.. I'm not." Did he really just stutter?

"You're talking to fast, you keep stuttering, I can see the sweat on your forehead and…" I reached over to touch his wrist. "Your pulse is elevated. What other explanation do you have for me."

Sherlock remained quiet. Suddenly I didn't feel so nervous anymore, especially if Sherlock was the one that was about to start hyperventilating. "So why did you have to get advice from Mycroft?"

"I already told you that-"

"Yeah, yeah. You needed advice about me. But what kind of advice about me?"

Sherlock looked stunned at the fact that I had actually come straight out and asked that. I couldn't really believe it either. He could either answer honestly or just walk away. But there was no way he could avoid the question without some kind of negative result.

"John… Do you really want to know?" He asked slowly.

"Yes."

"I don't think I should tell you."

"Why not?"

"It's complicated."

"Sherlock! Everything in our lives is complicated. What is one more little complicated thing going to do to us?" I was starting to get frustrated. "Just tell me."

"I don't want to ruin our friendship." He started to stand up. But there was no way I was letting him escape this. I stood up and put my arm in front of him, signaling for him to stay right where he was. "John…" He started quietly.

I waited. But he said nothing else. "Just spit it out."

He looked directly into my eyes. "Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you. From the first day we met I've always knew you were different. Different from everyone else. You were intelligent and caring and within two days of meeting me, you killed a man to save my life. You've always been here for me, even though I know I can be a pain in the arse. But through everything we've been through… I think…"

He stopped and looked away. My stomach was in my toes. I couldn't believe my own ears… Was he saying what I thought he was saying? "You think what…?"

"I think that…" He started again, but I couldn't wait any longer. I pulled his lips down to mine and kissed him softly. All I could think was that I was kissing Sherlock Holmes.

He pulled away and looked at me with surprise. "I think... I think that I need some air." And with that he was gone.

"Wait! Sherlock…" I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes. What did I just do?


	3. Chapter 3

I flopped onto my bed. This was a disaster! What if Sherlock was headed in a completely different direction with his little speech? I could've just completely demolished our friendship… or whatever the hell you called whatever this was.

All I could do was stare at my phone. Text him? Don't text him? Wait for him to come back? Run after him? I had no idea what I should do. All I knew was I, John Hamish Watson, had actually kissed Sherlock Holmes. You bloody git! I cursed myself.

I probably could've laid there for hours, but my mobile phone buzzed. Text from Lestrade. Got Sherlock a case, but he's not answering his phone. Everything alright?

I sighed. I guess I could tell Lestrade. I kissed Sherlock and he ran. I replied bluntly.

About bloody time! We've all been waiting for one of you to make a move! 

I was stunned… Wait, what? People knew we had like a complicated relationship? Never mind that. I called Lestrade. "Why you calling me? You should be trying to talk to Sherlock."

"I know… But I don't know what to say to him!" I complained.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out. Look, I need you here though. And please, bring Sherlock."

"Fine." I hung up and dialed Sherlock.

"Hello John." He answered curtly.

"Lestrade has a case."

"I know."

"Then get over there?" I suggested.

"I am." And then he hung up. It was going to be a long day.

We spent the rest of the day solving a murder case and Sherlock did everything in his power to avoid talking to me. Instead of talking to me, he chose to talk about the case to Anderson. Anderson? Of all people he had to pick Anderson? Not going to lie. That one kind of hurt. Just like a swift kick in the arse.

I returned to the flat around eleven, but I didn't hear Sherlock come in till after twelve. Before I knew it, I heard the soft music from his violin flowing from his room. Unlike his normal harsh and annoying songs, this was soft and delicate. It was quite beautiful. And if it had been any other night, I probably would've fallen asleep within minutes.

But I couldn't sleep. There was no way I would be able to without fixing this… Or at least finding out what had actually happened. With a sigh I got out of bed and opened my door. Sherlock stopped playing abruptly and I paused before continuing down the hall. "Sherlock..?" I said quietly knocking on his door.

I heard him moving about, but he didn't say a word. "Sherlock… I want to talk."

"Then talk." He replied shortly.

"Open the door first."

"Do you not have hands? Open the door yourself."

I turned the knob, expecting it to be locked, but the door opened and I walked in, slowly shutting the door behind me. His room was completely dark. There were no lights on, and no lights emitting from anything. No alarm clock. No nothing. I let my eyes adjust to the lighting and I could just barely make out Sherlock, curled up on the edge of his bed.

"Well don't just stand there, if you want to talk, then talk."

I didn't know what to say. I just stood there, and I could almost hear Sherlock's eyes rolling at me.

He stood up and walked towards me. "John…"

"Sherlock…?"

"I didn't get to finish telling you what I thought earlier." He paused for a moment. "I was trying to say that I think… I think that I'm in love with you." The latter came out as barely a whisper, and I could barely hear it over the beating of my own heart.

I couldn't believe what I just heard. "Earlier… Why did you run?" I asked.

"I was scared. Worried."

"Why?"

"People worry because worrying is an ordinary human nature. Some people worry too much while others leave things simple. That depends on the individual's natural character. People worry because they suffer severe pain when they are born. People are born enduring the state of possibly being killed by compression or being pushed out forcefully through a narrow delivery canal. People get big trauma in the mind at the point of the beginning of life, at birth. As a result, trauma registered deep in the mind begins to-" I cut him off before he could finish.

"No Sherlock. Why were you worried?"

"I… I was scared."

"Of me?"

"Yes… I mean no… I mean… I don't know." He looked away from me.

"Am I really that scary looking?" I asked jokingly.

"No, that's not what I mean… It's just… All these emotions aren't something I'm used to. I used to think sentiment was a chemical brain on the losing side… But now..."

"Sherlock… Just quit the act and love me."

He didn't answer, but he stepped up even closer to me and took my head in his hands. He had to lean down so far to kiss me, but when he did, it was soft and sweet. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my body against his.

This time, when he pulled away, he didn't run. He held me in his arms and whispered in my arm softly. "I love you, John."

"I love you too, Sherlock." As soon as I said the words, I knew how true they were. I realized how long I'd been waiting to say that. Too long.

I'm not sure how long we stood there embracing. But things got slightly awkward when my body told me that I needed the bathroom… "Umm... Sherlock?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry to ruin the moment, but I really need to pee."

He chuckled slightly and let me go. "Well don't let me keep you from your bodily needs."

I kissed his cheek and practically ran to the bathroom. When I glanced in the mirror, my cheeks were flushed and my eyes were bright. Me and Sherlock. Sherlock and me. Nobody could wipe the smile off my face. Finally, everything was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

I walked back to Sherlock's room. He had crawled back into bed, facing away from the door, and left just enough room to slide into the bed next to him. When I did, he turned over and took me in his arms. "I'm not letting you go again." He said quietly.

"Fine by me."

And for the first but definitely not the last time, I fell asleep in Sherlock's arms.


	4. Chapter 4

I woke up from the most beautiful and amazing dream. Sherlock and me. Me and Sherlock… I laid there with my eyes clothes just remembering. Sherlock and I kissing, sleeping in the same bed. If only it was true. That's when I realized that there was something really warm next to me. And there was a soft breathing on my neck and a pair of arms around me. I opened my eyes to find myself NOT in my room. I was in Sherlock's bed? With Sherlock?

It wasn't a dream! This was reality.

I wormed out of Sherlock's arms and turned around to look at him. Asleep he looked so vulnerable. And so adorable. And in that moment I told myself I wouldn't let anyone hurt him, ever. He was mine, and no one could take that away from me.

Sherlock stirred slightly. "John?" He murmured sleepily.

"I'm here Sherlock."

"Why are you so far away?" He grunted and cuddled up against my chest. "Don't go anywhere."

I kissed his forehead. "I won't dear."

"Good," he said against my neck. "Why did I wait so long to say anything?"

I shrugged. "That information would be in your head, not mine."

He was quiet for a moment, but the moment was ruined when his phone rang. Sherlock groaned and got up slowly. "Hello?"

I got up slowly as he said, "That's none of your business Lestrade. Do you have something for me or not?"

Heading out to the kitchen to make some tea I heard, "Fine, I'll be right there."

"Anything interesting?" I asked as he walked out of his room.

"Not in the slightest, but apparently he needs me. How dull." He pulled on his jacket. "Aren't you coming John?"

"If you want me to."

"Of course. What would I be without my John?" He grinned and winked at me. "Now go clean up real quick, you look like you just got out of bed."

"Well you know what the funny thing is? I did just get out of bed." I rolled my eyes.

A half hour later we were in a cab on the way to a crime scene. Sherlock sat so close to me he was practically on my lap. So many thoughts were flying through my head. I just realized something… I was in love Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes is a man. I'm a homosexual? The thought hadn't crossed my mind until now. Would other people think of me differently now?

I looked over at Sherlock and realized I didn't care. I had Sherlock and that's all that mattered.

Sherlock looked over at me and frowned. "What is it?"

"Nothing." I looked out the window. Sherlock laid his head on my shoulder and I grinned. Who cared what the cabbie thought?

When we reached the crime scene, Lestrade pulled me aside and grinned, "Sooo?"

"So what?" I asked.

"What's the story?" He winked. "I can see the change in your face. I know something happened."

"Don't you think we should be helping Sherlock?" I said, trying to walk over to him.

He grabbed my arm to stop me. "I don't even need Sherlock here, the case is already solved. We all just want to hear the story."

"Seriously? You brought me and Sherlock here so you could gossip about our new relationship?" I questioned. "You're unbelievable."

"Hah! So you two are in a relationship?" Lestrade asked smugly.

"I guess so…" I said awkwardly. "We slept together last night."

"You go man! Get some!" He shouted a little too loudly, and some of the other people looked over at us.

"Shut up! That's not what I meant…" I laughed awkwardly.

Lestrade looked at me funny. "What? You two didn't…?"

"No! Now let's talk about something else! Before I want to slap you." I said walking over to Sherlock.

"Why are we slapping people?" Sherlock asked.

"Because Lestrade is a wanker." I replied.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask. "So this one is quite obvious Lestrade, I can't believe you couldn't figure it out yourself. And I'm frankly not very happy with the fact that you called me down here just for this. I have better things I could be doing."

"You mean like John?" Lestrade coughed.

"Exactly." Sherlock replied curtly. "Now if you'll excuse me, me and my doctor have some business to take care of."

I felt my face turn red as Sherlock locked his arm with mine and led me away from Lestrade, who looked quite stunned.

"Umm.. Sherlock?" I said quietly, as he flagged down a cab.

"Yes, John." He replied. "221B Baker Street." He said to the cabbie.

"Lestrade brought us here just to gossip." I said, sliding in the cab behind him.

"I know." He said matter-of-factly. "I knew as soon as he called me. But I figured we'd just as well give him the treat of seeing us together."

"They're going to talk. They're going to talk a lot." I said nervously.

"Let them. We'll just be famous." Sherlock grinned.

"You already are." I pointed out.

Sherlock chuckled. "Point taken."

As the cab pulled up to the flat, Sherlock took my hand. "Lestrade is a bloody git." I said.

"True. But I'd rather he be the one starting the talking. I'm afraid Anderson or Donavan would barely spare the time to get the details correct."

I laughed at the truth in that. "Yeah, well. I don't really know what to expect to hear from them anymore."

Sherlock pulled me close to him and kissed me passionately. I pulled away gasping for air.

"Let them talk," he said.

"Alright. If you say so."

"I do say so. Obviously." He pulled me to the door.

"What are we doing?" I asked breathlessly.

"Giving the people something to talk about."

He slammed the door and shoved me against the wall, startling a poor Mrs. Hudson.

"Bedroom?" I asked. "No need to scar Mrs. Hudson."

Sherlock just nodded. And pulled me into his room.

"I love you, John." He said as our jackets hit the floor.

"I love you too, Sherlock."

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this. c:
> 
> It's one of my first fanfics.. So let me know what you think! 
> 
> xxx James Moriarty


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